


truth in your eyes (lies in your mouth)

by notyouricon



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chan is trying too, Felix is just a sad boy, Han Jisung is trying, Hurt/Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I am so sorry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lee Felix-centric, M/M, Resolved, Sad, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Author Regrets Everything, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyouricon/pseuds/notyouricon
Summary: he didn't know what drew him out there, a sense of duty, a need for something completely different. whatever it was, it sang to him, waiting just under the ledge of the bridge.oranother angsty lee felix-centric fic that no one, absolutely no one, asked for.





	truth in your eyes (lies in your mouth)

**Author's Note:**

> i regret everything, this boy doesn't deserve this and none of the events that occur withing this work is real, this is a piece of fiction and i sincerely hope it stays that way. also this is based off a song called skin by sixxam i almost forgot to include that. 
> 
> with love as always, julian. <33
> 
> ps: if any of you feel this way, if you're lonely, or sad, or feeling like you've failed in some way, please call this number, 1-800-273-8255, this will connect you directly to the national suicide hotline, and you will receive immediate help. please, you are not just another number, reach out and ask for help, we're always willing to give it.

_ Paint yourself a picture _ _  
_ _ Of what you wish you looked like _

 

He sat patiently in the art classroom, this was how he always spent his afternoons. Sat in front of a canvas, staring at the blankness. That’s how he felt a lot more nowadays, blank and silent. The inspiration that had once bubbled through him had slowed and died and fallen away. His hands drifted of their own accord today, painting a slash of red-brown across the top of the canvas, pale peach and shadows blending. Long skinny legs down the canvas, baggy hoodie on top. Sleeves rolled up, showing patches of light skin and scars. He looked ragged, worn and tired, stretched too thin. Without thinking he let drops of pure red drip down the painted wrists, this was him, twisted and distorted. He threw the brushes into the sink, disgusted with himself. He tried not to glare at the reflection in the glass cupboard, knowing exactly what it would show, a too skinny boy, with scars all up and down his arms where they weren’t covered by his sleeves. He hated his reflection, hated how it showed who he was.

 

_ Maybe then they just might _ _  
_ _ Feel an ounce of your pain _

 

Walking steadily from the room, Felix left the portrait there, he didn’t care who saw it, didn’t care who tried to ruin it, he was already ruined. If they even bothered to peer closely, to look at it and see him. No one saw him, no one cared. They weren’t feeling the pain he felt, didn’t notice how he always seemed on the verge of tears. Since Chris had left, no one saw him anymore, they saw the jackets and the slightly above average grades that he worked ten times harder for. It occurred to him, would anyone even miss him if he disappeared? Chris wouldn’t have to know, he was away at college, he had no reason to look into Felix’s life right now. The answer he came to was no, no one would miss him. Maybe then they would see, maybe after he was gone they would realize. 

 

_ Come into focus _ _  
_ _ Step out of the shadows _

 

He walked home that day, not looking both ways before crossing streets, taking the long way around town. He tried to think of what he could do, he didn’t want to die, but he wouldn’t stop it from happening. Stepping into the small apartment he decides that he would call Chris, just one more time. He pulled out his phone, dropping the canvas backpack he had carried onto the floor. He scrolled through his contacts, opening the one he was looking for. They hadn’t been able to talk for a long time, and Chris had said he was free around now, right? It couldn’t hurt to give the older man a call. He hit the small green phone icon, putting the device up to his ear. He was going to be okay, he had to let Chris know, had to let Chris know that he was okay now. 

 

_ It's a losing battle _ _  
_ _ There's no need to be ashamed _

 

The phone picked up after ringing twice, the bubbly sound of Chris’s voice sounded distorted through the speakers, but Felix would take what he could get. They chatted back and forth for a little while before Felix decided to tell him. “Chris, I’m gonna be okay soon, really soon. I’m gonna feel better.” His voice didn’t sound as happy as he wanted it to be if anything it was tinged with sadness and longing. 

“What do you mean, Lix? Felix?” There was no response, and all Felix could think about was how it would be okay, he was going to be okay for once, just for once he wanted to be okay. 

 

_ 'Cause they don't even know you _ _  
_ _ All they see is scars _

 

Felix hung the phone up, it didn’t matter now, he couldn’t feel anything other than relief. He had told and now he was going to be okay. It wasn’t like Chris knew much of anything about what was happening. They hadn’t had a proper conversation in over two months. And when they did talk, he only asked if Felix was doing okay, if he had relapsed, if he was struggling. No, Felix always said, I haven’t relapsed, I’m not struggling. Sweet lies, they tasted like sugar and arsenic on his tongue, slowly suffocating him. He would be glad for a breath of fresh air. Walking further into the apartment, Felix felt light on the carpeted floor, he could feel something, unidentifiable, but strong, pulsing in his chest. He shed his hoody, leaving it on his bed as he sat down to write. He lived alone, he used to live with Chris, and before that, his parents. Now he had no one to come find his letters, no one to see his last. 

 

_ They don't see the angel _ _  
_ _ Living in your heart _

 

He finished scrawling the letter, tucking it into his jeans pocket as he walked into the chilly autumn air outside. He didn’t shiver, could only embrace the whipping cold. Nobody gave a thought to the boy, aside from the occasional odd look. He couldn’t bring himself to care much, they just didn’t see it. He felt lighter than he had in years as if he could fly, his heart fluttered at the thought. Flying sounded nice. He stopped at a house he hadn’t seen in what felt like years, the only friend within the city limits who he found himself caring for. They didn’t see much of him anymore, they had switched over to being homeschooled, they lost contact. He slipped the note through the mail slot, smiling bittersweetly as it disappeared. He had been an angel, that’s what Jisung had always said, “Felix, you’re an angel.”

 

_ Let them find the real you _ __  
_ Buried deep within _ __  
_ Let them know with all you've got _ __  
_ That you are not your skin _ _  
_ __ Oh oh, oh oh

  
  


He continued on his way quickly, a destination set in his mind. His arms started to go numb again, and he could feel faint stares burning into his arms, into the ugly scars that decorated them. He shoved his hands into his pockets, holding his head high. This was him, he would be himself for an hour more, maybe a little less. He wasn’t just a skin coating anymore, he could feel. Relief, sorrow, disappointment, and bitter, oh so bitter hatred. He hated how people stared, hated how his skin was marred and distorted. Hated everything about himself, hated how it made him stick out like a sore thumb. He kept walking, not noticing the footsteps of strangers, he made it to his final stop as twilight set in. The water splashed smoothly against the bank of the river, flowing around the posts of the bridge with ease. He swung a leg over the railing, finding himself on the wrong side of the edge. It would be so easy, just to let go, to fly. He didn’t hear anything over the roaring of the blood in his ears. This was it. This was finally where he had ended up.

 

_ And when they start to judge you _ __  
_ Show them your true colors _ __  
_ And do onto others _ _  
_ __ As you'd have done to you

 

Felix remembered that he had once promised Chris that he wouldn’t get this bad, that he would get help. But what was another broken promise in the pile of old vows anyway? He let one arm let go of the metal behind him, reaching out into the cool air, his phone was buzzing in his pocket, and there were loud footsteps coming from behind him. He remained oblivious to it all, his eyes dutifully remaining on the swirling water beneath him, the last light of the day dying as the sun disappeared. He wanted to disappear too. His other hand let go of the bridge’s guardrail, and he stood on a small ledge, toes just hanging over the edge of the concrete. Just as he was about to step out, he felt arms wrap tightly around his torso, pushing his back into the metal rail. He cried out, arms coming up to try and free himself. No! Not when he was so close, if he had been just a second quicker— 

 

_ Just rise above this _ __  
_ Ignorance is blinded _ _  
_ __ They're the ones that stand to lose

 

He felt himself being hauled over the metal, back scraping painfully against the material. Someone was yelling at him, he couldn’t tell, his head was swimming. Why couldn’t they just let him jump? That would be the best option, right? He let himself be pulled back anyways, what was the point of resisting anymore? Staring up at the sky, he watched as stars began to wink to life, appearing one by one, filling up the sky. He wished he could feel full again, he had never felt so empty. “Felix! Are you even listening to me?” A vaguely familiar voice broke through his haze, and he lazily moved his head to find the source of it. “Oh, my god, I’m calling Chris!” Felix tried to protest, pushing up onto his elbows slightly, ignoring how the gravel dug into his arms. 

“No! You can’t call him!” Felix choked out, finally spotting the person who the voice belonged to, Jisung. “Don’t call him.” The younger of the pair said, trying to keep himself from shaking as the cold began to soak into his body. His phone was still going off, and he attempted to tug it out of his pocket angrily, glaring down at all the missed calls. Chris and what seemed to be a few of the older boy’s friends had been calling him for at least an hour now. He clicked the phone off. Turning his gaze back towards his once close friend. “He— I told him that I was going to be okay, I was going to be just fine.”

“No, I’m calling him right now.” And with that, Jisung pulled Felix close to him, trying to calm him and keep him warm all at once. Felix could hear the ringing of the phone, then the sound of the line connecting. “Hey, Chris. It’s Jisung. I have Felix, he was on the bridge.” There was some vague mumbling, and Felix knew he would be getting hell for this later. He watched the area around them, it was almost completely dark aside from the moonlight and a flickering street lamp. Jisung hung up the phone eventually, tugging Felix up into a standing position and wrapping the boy up in a jacket. 

 

_ 'Cause they don't even know you _ __  
_ All they see is scars _ __  
_ They don't see the angel _ _  
_ __ Living in your heart

 

They arrived back at Felix’s apartment shortly, the younger being supported by the other of the pair, and when they reached the top of the stairs, they found they weren’t alone. Chris was leaning against the wall next to his door, lip bit tightly between his teeth. When he heard the sounds of their footfalls he looked up, eyes widening, he was quick to rush to Felix’s other side, taking on some of the weight the unresponsive male presented, it wasn’t much if he was being honest. Together, Jisung and Chris managed to maneuver and unlock the door, making their way inside and setting Felix onto the couch. Chris excused himself to the kitchen, and when he was out of sight, his shoulders shook slightly, things had gotten too far. Felix had almost died, not just that, Felix had almost killed himself. He tried to shake off the feeling, running a hand through his hair as it trembled. Tea, warm tea, that would help. 

He made the drink quickly, letting it steep in a chipped mug before he brought it out. Jisung had managed to get Felix wrapped in a blanket, but his arms lay over top of it, the gruesome scarring painfully obvious. He had hidden so well. Setting the tea down on the side table, Chris takes up a place beside Felix, grabbing one of the small boy’s hands in his own. When Jisung had said the bridge, Chris had rushed to get to his car, it had been years, but he still knew exactly what bridge the boy had meant. Felix said he was going to better, but he hadn’t thought it was meant like that. 

 

_ Let them find the real you _ __  
_ Buried deep within _ __  
_ Let them know with all you've got _ _  
_ __ That you are not your skin

 

“Felix, why did you try to jump?” Chris asked quietly, looking up at the boy, almost afraid of the answer. 

“Because anything would be better than this.” The boy in question whispered back, voice not wavering. “Because I don’t want to be here anymore. Because I hate everything about myself and I can’t stand it.” His voice shook for the first time in the end, and he pulled his arms closer to his body. Chris wanted to cry, how had Felix gotten so damaged, where had they gone so wrong? Distracting himself, Chris picked up the sweetened tea, pressing it into Felix’s cold fingers. 

“Drink, you’ll feel warmer.” He said with a soft voice as he reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair out of Felix’s face. Jisung sat quietly off to the side, not wanting to intrude on the moment.

He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer though, “Felix, how long ago was your last relapse?” The question seemed to shock the other two boys, but Chris maintained his composure. With the number of scars on the skinny boy’s arms, it seemed he must’ve relapsed before, even if he said he hadn’t. Felix looked down at the cup in his hands slowly, deep in thought as he mumbled out an answer. Chris leaned a bit closer to the younger boy’s side, trying to hear. 

“What was that, Lix? Can you speak up just a little?” He whispered, trying to come off as comforting and not interrogating. 

“I— about two weeks ago.” Felix sighed, closing his eyes tightly. It was two weeks ago, he had been getting better at resisting, but then one of the other kids in his class had yelled at him. He had been minding his own business, walking in the halls to get to the art room when out of nowhere, a small cluster of students came his way, knocking him over and laughing at him. Needless to say, he went home as soon as possible, rushing to the bathroom and letting the sobs wrack through his body. Jisung nodded, that made sense, he may not have seen Felix in a long time, but he knew how his friend’s brain worked. 

“That’s okay, we don’t care about that, we just want to help you get better. We want you healthy and safe.” Chris was the one who piped up this time, hands lifting the mug of tea to Felix’s lips, “Drink, baby.” And Felix did, cringing at the overly sweet flavor. He felt the warmth spread from his fingertips to his stomach, branching out and wrapping around him. What had he been thinking? He wished for the bridge and the water, but his heart longed for warm blankets and soft hands. His mind kept whirling, swapping between the two ideas. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, Chris had driven for at least an hour to get here, and Jisung must’ve been exhausted and stressed out himself. He hated that he had caused this. The others sighed, softly reassuring him that they didn’t mind, he was safe and with them, that’s all they cared about right now. 

 

_ Well they don't even know you _ __  
_ All they see is scars _ __  
_ And they don't see the angels _ _  
_ __ Living in your heart

 

They went from there, working to make Felix as comfortable as possible. Chris was the one who went searching the rooms of the apartment, taking out anything that he deemed would be harmful. He found boxes of shiny silver blades, unopened bottles of anti-depressants, empty glass containers, all of these he threw in a trash bag. When he came across a shoebox in the closet, he stopped, gently prying open the lid and peeking inside. Pictures, notes, journals. All of them seemed to hold years of Felix’s life within them. He shuffled through it, and when he didn’t find any dangerous items, put it away. 

Meanwhile, Jisung had managed to get Felix cleaned up and changed into some warmer clothes. Whispering softly to the younger boy. He ran his thumb over the carnage on an arm, soft and hopeful, they would protect Felix, protect him from himself and all the dangers around him. 

“We’re here now, angel. We aren’t going anywhere.”

 

_ So let them find the real you _ __  
_ Buried deep within _ __  
_ Let them know with all you've got _ __  
_ That you are not _ _  
_ __ You are not your skin

 


End file.
